Page 69 of Owned By a Billionaire

“I think you might want to park somewhere else, Caroline. This is a drug beat.”

“Oh? I don’t care. If they take it, then so be it.”

“Really? But how will you get back to Merivale?”

I laughed. “We have a fleet of cars. There are always drivers around. I’m not worried.”

We stepped out of the car to a fanfare of whistles. In response, Markus gave them a wave.

“You know them?” I asked, trying not to sound judgmental.

“Not to talk to, but I see them here all the time, and smiling seems to rattle them.” He chuckled. “They’re probably used to cheek and the middle finger.”

“That’s one way to deal with a potential threat, I suppose.”

“They’re not a threat, Caroline. We are.”

I rolled my eyes at his socialist comment. Politically, we were on opposite sides of the divide, and it made our debates rather stimulating and, at times, a little heated, which was followed by passionate sex. When it came to conversation, a rebellious mind was far more stimulating than that of a conservative, despite identifying as one myself.

That woman of substance I’d meticulously shaped had turned into a woman of contradictions. This was never more evident than at that moment as I stared at the weathered postwar home where he was staying.

“I don’t have my own entrance, I’m afraid.” He looked apologetic. “We can go somewhere else. Like your hotel?”

“No. I’d like to see where you’ve been living.”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I can just admire your handsome face instead,” I said.

He half-smiled and opened the door for me.

Audrey was there to greet us with a kindly face that lit up in surprise on seeing me. I imagined I looked a little odd to her in my designer sheath and high heels.

“Oh, you’ve brought a guest,” she said, looking from Markus to me.

“This is Caroline.” He gestured. “Caroline, meet Audrey.”

Audrey’s mouth fell open. “Oh my. You’re Caroline Lovechilde. I read about you in Hello.”

That tacky article. It had come back to haunt me.

“Really? I never saw that.” Markus grinned in a way that showed the real man—Cary would never have poked fun, but Markus knew how much I hated those shallow magazines.

I held out my hand to Audrey, who, for some strange reason, was curtsying.

Markus nodded. “We’re just going up for a while.”

She curtsied again, and Markus’s eyes shone with amusement, which nearly made me laugh.

Pointing at a set of stairs, he fluttered his arm and whispered, “After you, your highness.”

He let me into his room, which was almost the size of a Merivale cupboard. At least the tiny balcony facing a yard filled with vegetables and herbs made it seem less claustrophobic.

“Tea?” He stepped into an adjoining room with a small table and a kettle. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. You’re the first person who’s ever been here.” He held up a bottle of whisky. “It’s rough.” An apologetic half smile dimpled his cheek.

He sat the bottle down and stepped towards me. As we fell into each other’s arms, we kissed like it was our first time. His soft, fleshy lips massaged my mouth, exploring every inch. The heat between us intensified. He nuzzled me against the wall, and I surrendered myself to him.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, pulling away.

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